I'll Win For Us
by ChairmanMeow12
Summary: This is just how I interpreted Cato and Clove's relationship. It sticks pretty close to the book's plot. I was so upset when Clove died and this is just how I felt that Cato responded. Feel free to review this, but I'm not going to beg.


**Author's Note:** This is partly from Clove's point of view, but it switches to Cato's after she dies. It follows the plot of Suzanne Collins' _The Hunger Games_ fairly closely, but obviously Katniss isn't the one telling the story. This is my first fan-fiction EVER so constructive criticism would be nice. I do not own anything related to the Hunger Games, that honor is all Suzanne Collins'.

That's when she lost it. Completely lost it.

"Cato!" she screamed, and anyone could hear the desperation in her voice, the knowledge that he wasn't near enough to be of any use, "Cato!"

Clove listened futilely for a response from her companion, but she knew what was coming and looked fearfully at the giant stone grasped in Thresh's monstrous hands.

"Clove!" Cato called back and there appeared a glimmer of hope in her eyes before she realizes the distance between them. The stone made impact and the hope and life vanished from her eyes. Her small body looked so vulnerable on the ground at Thresh's feet. Clove's chest was still rising and falling, more rapidly now, and she moaned quietly. Katniss and Thresh ignored her.

Cato immediately saw Clove's body on the ground and instantly knew what had happened and what had to happen now. He would avenge her murder, no matter what it took.

"Clove!" he shouted, the pain evident at losing her. He saw District 12 running towards the woods, but not even his hatred towards her, his desire to kill someone, anyone, could keep him from going to Clove. He couldn't abandon her now, even to avenge his pains. Cato saw Thresh going into the grasslands, both backpacks slung over his huge shoulders, but chose not to go after him just yet. He knew Thresh would be there when it was time for vengeance.

"Cato?" Clove whispered, looking up at his face in the early morning light. The sun was rising behind his back, making him look more handsome than ever. She managed to smile barely.

"I promise," he told her, leaning over her frail figure, "I'll win. For both of us. For District 2. I'll win."

Clove nodded barely, debating whether she should tell him what she'd wanted to tell him since the morning he'd come back from fighting Lover Boy. It hadn't been the right time then, with Marvel being there, mourning the loss of Glimmer, then later, when they'd lost the supplies, Cato had been in such a state. So had she. Then District 12 had killed Marvel. Then they'd been planning the tactic for the feast. There had never been time and it looked like there never would be. Her breaths were coming shorter and shorter and she knew that there wasn't much time left. Cato brushed her hair out of her face and took her hand in his.

"Don't leave me, Clove," he begged softly, "I don't want to be here alone. I don't want to win this without you."

"Cato," she rasped, "You can win, I know you can. For me."

"I need you," he whispered, "Come home with me."

"I'll be there, I promise," she told him impetuously, "But you have to go home, Cato."

Clove closed her eyes, but Cato shook her forcefully.

"Not yet, Clove, not yet," he begged, "Stay with me!"

"I can't. But…we'll…we'll be together soon," Clove told him, knowing in her heart that the Capitol and the Gamemakers wanted District 12 to win. She also knew that the Girl on Fire didn't care for Lover Boy in the way she cared for Cato. The way she would never be able to tell him about.

"I'll kill that bastard," Cato swore, squeezing her hand.

Clove's eyes closed and she couldn't help it, no matter how hard she struggled.

"I…" she managed to whisper before she couldn't speak anymore. The canon fired.

"Clove!" he shouted, "Stay with me! Stay! Don't leave me!" Cato couldn't believe that he hadn't started crying yet, but he supposed his pride kept him from it. All those years of training had made him hard. But not so hard that he had forgotten how to love. The cameras were probably fixating on Lover Boy getting the medicine he needed, so Cato figured he had a few moments alone with Clove before the whole of Panem saw his weakness.

"I love you," he whispered, then leaned down and kissed her lips softly. They were still warm and for a second he thought he saw her eyelids fluttering. But no, he was only imagining it, what he wanted more than anything. More than winning even. That she should survive the Hunger Games.

Cato brushed Clove's hair over the dent in her skull. She was still so beautiful. He knew he couldn't just sit there in the open. He was too easy a target. Even that elusive one, with the red hair might take a shot at him. Thresh would definitely not hesitate if he remained there. Cato walked purposefully towards the plains, but looked over his shoulder at the body of the one person he truly had trusted.

He knelt over the backpack and felt tears coming to his eyes. Not tears of remorse, that's for sure. Or tears of pain from the injuries Thresh had dealt out. He had killed the humongous threat, the only one stronger than him in the Games. Cato had avenged her death, but the knowledge didn't give him much satisfaction. He only wished that he could have come up with a more sadistic ending for the murderer, as in his state, the irony of bashing Thresh's bloodied face in with a large rock wasn't enough.

Cato focused on the backpack's contents once again, ignoring the body beside him. The armor was of the finest quality and it clearly was made specifically for him. Despite the heat, he pulled it on and it fit like a glove. This wasn't the cause for his tears. There was a second suit of armor in the backpack, formed for the gentle curves of a petite young woman. Cato ran his hands over the armor, taking in its beauty.

"Clove, why did you leave?" he whispered, "You could have fought harder." Even as he spoke the words, he knew it wasn't true. She didn't stand a chance from the instant Thresh had shown up. And he knew it was his fault, all his fault. He hadn't been in the right place to attack Thresh. He hadn't seen him coming. He'd left her unprotected.

"I'm so sorry, Clove," he continued, talking to the body he imagined in the armor, "It was my fault. I wasn't there for you when you needed me. You were always there for me. To calm me down, to help with my injuries, to follow me through everything. We should have won. We deserve it more than those two."

That's when he heard the snarl.

"It's her!" the girl shrieked. Clove would never have shrieked like that. She had dignity and she didn't scare. Ever.

"Who?" Lover Boy asked, "What is it, Katniss?"

Cato wasn't sure why he was listening to their conversation. He didn't know why he hadn't shoved them to their deaths yet. It was probably because it was all he could do not to trip in the blood and sweat pooling around him.

"It's them. It's all of them. The others. Rue and Foxface and…all of the others," she choked out. That caught his attention. It was true, each mutt had a very distinct appearance, in size, color, hair type, eye color. Cato looked at each wolf in turn. There was Glimmer, the dead one. The one the girl had shot. Then the smallest was the one from District 11, the one that the girl had teamed up with. The largest of all! Jumping higher than the rest. It had to be him. Cato had a sudden urge to smash its head in again, for good measure, for the hate he still felt, and the revenge he continued to seek. Cato watched as one mutt pulled on the boy's leg and he smiled bitterly. Suddenly, he realized that if there was a mutt that was Glimmer, the tributes from District 11…Cato looked closer at each mutt, looking for the beautiful dark hair and green eyes that were Clove's. The collar that would say _2_ on it. Where was she? Then he realized that he didn't have time for this. He grabbed the boy and pulled him into a headlock. The girl trained an arrow at his face.

"Shoot me and he goes down with me," Cato laughed, realizing that he didn't care anymore, didn't care about his injuries, only about winning. For Clove. Then the idiot boy drew an X on his hand in his own blood. Cato didn't realize what it meant until the arrow pierced the spot. He released Lover Boy and slipped in the blood, toppling over the edge.

It still wasn't over. They all knew that. Cato fought off the mutts as best he could, stabbing a few with his sword, wrestling with them. He still had a chance. Cato impaled a dog's dark brown chest with his sword and her dark green eyes blinked at him as she fell away dying. _Her_ eyes, he realized.

"No!" Cato roared, pulling himself onto the wolf and throwing away the sword. He felt the other dogs ripping at his armor, but he didn't care. "Clove, no!"

The mutt whined and looked at him coolly. Cato looked into Clove's eyes and felt the tears trickling down his face.

"I know, I promised to win," he whispered, feeling a piece of armor being pulled away from his body and the flesh coming away with it, "But it doesn't matter to me anymore."

He saw District 12's shadow over him as she leaned over the edge of the Cornucopia. He reached out and felt the soft, dark fur of Clove's mutation and pressed his face against her breast.

"Going home," he rasped to the dead wolf, "Together."

The arrow entered into his skull. The canon boomed. The victor would not be from District 2.


End file.
